No person referred to in the text below is or was under the age of eighteen.
In the unlikely event that you are not familiar, the word cunt is often used in lifestyle and libertine worlds. It has no negative connotation and is used lovingly as an anatomical term, much as the rest of the world uses pussy.
I suppose I have always been a strong personality, even my parents found me difficult to control when I was a teenager, and men have always had the same problem ever since, unless, of course, they like to be mildly dominated.
I like to control. No, I need to control, and now as a mature woman of forty five I make sure I get what I want. For example when we do tie and tease it's always me who does the tying and the teasing.
Having my man tied up, and completely at my mercy, is a big turn on for both of us. I get to do exactly what I want with him and he enjoys just letting go because he has no option and gets off on the pleasure it gives me. We do have safe words but have never needed them: so far.
We started, back in the day, with soft cord, but I always knew he could escape if he wanted to. I know he didn't want to, but that's not the point, he still wasn't totally at my mercy.
I now have much more secure ways to immobilise him. The velcro cuffs for his wrists and ankles can be securely attached to the four corners of the bed or several other locations in the play room, as we call our bedroom. There really is no possible escape. It's just a question of whether I immobilise him standing or lying, face up or face down.
Obviously it's standing or face down for a spanking and we both enjoy that a lot. Me from the way his bum wobbles delightfully with each thwack of whatever implement I happen to choose and him from unflinchingly taking the pain that it gives me so much pleasure to inflict.
He himself would admit that he is something of a pain slut, and I so love knowing that he will take whatever I give him, simply because he knows it gives me pleasure. Not to mention that the sight of that bright red bum gets me juicing, ready for the post spanking action.
Slippers are fun and, he says, reminiscent of his school days. When I'm Matron, I can get that errant little bottom glowing quite easily with a slipper. If I'm feeling a bit more of a Head Mistress I have a selection of other implements and a god range of canes.
Canes are fun! Thick ones for a thuddy effect and thin ones for a stingy one. I just love placing nice red parallel lines on his bum and for a special treat I sometimes roll over the fresh wounds with a pin wheel. That often produces spectacular results.
We have a cunning cross over system which allows me to demand that he turns over and he can obey without my having to release any of the restraints. When he turns he nearly always has an erection! I told you he was a pain slut.
Now I can play with a whole new canvas while working myself up into an erotic frenzy. I can clamp his nipples, toy with his cock or squat on his face while he eats my cunt and there is absolutely nothing he can do about it.
The finale is almost always signalled by me impaling myself on his rock rigid cock and riding him cowgirl without releasing him. I will ride until I sense he is about to cum, and then lift myself off and let his cock flop out. Denial is such sweet torture.
Finally, when I'm ready to cum, I release his hands and get him to play with my nipples. The result is usually an explosive orgasm as I sense my nipples and clit fire sparks at each other, and I feel each pulse as he empties himself deep into my cunt. What is it about a freshly spanked man that makes him cum like that? It doesn't matter as long as it works!
Recently I have been talking through some, pretty wild, erotic fantasies while spanking and teasing, and much to my surprise I found myself getting really turned on. During the cuddle, after the explosive sex that nearly always follows, he ventured.
"Would you really like to do that?"
"Do what?" I said, pretending not to remember the latest fantasy that I had detailed while we were playing.
"The one where you fuck someone else while I have to watch."
If there is one characteristic that defines our relationship it's honesty.
"Honestly?"
"Yes honestly!"
"Mmmm, it was just a fantasy but it made me flow, I have to admit."
"I found it hot!"
What? My husband of many years had just told me he found the idea of being made to watch me fuck another man hot.
"Really?"
"Yes really!"
"So you want to watch me fuck another man, or you want to be made to watch?"
"Made to watch."
"What no jealousy?"
"Oh yes, lots of jealousy, but that's probably the turn on."
I was so turned on, so wet, I grasped his flagging cock, drew it into my mouth, and gave him my special occasions, 'five star', blow job. He got stiff again! We fucked again. We almost never fuck twice in the same evening these days, shit, it was mega hot!
Over coffee next morning we discussed the previous evening's play time and conversation.
Would it really be as good as the fantasy, to fuck someone else while he watched? Would he really like to be forced to watch it happen? Seriously? Yes? How? When? With whom? Who would be up for such a thing?
I got hot over breakfast and have to admit that my morning shower was more fun than usual as my mind ran riot and my fingers followed suit. Orgasming in the shower is very underrated, it still makes my knees buckle.
My lovely submissive hubby, who so likes his bottom spanked and then being dominated, wants me to find someone willing to fuck me while he watches, nay while he is forced to watch. I spent the day on the internet in a state of high arousal. I had never realised, until that moment, how much I wanted it too.
It wasn't so much the idea of fucking of another man, although that was a pretty hot thought after all this time. It was the idea of fucking of anther man, with the full permission of hubby, while he watched. I was in a state!
After ages on the internet I found three possible contenders. We arranged to met up in a pub, on consecutive days, for a chat and talk through.
Number one was dismissed at the first stage because he was unhappy about being watched, performance anxiety! And I was not up for performance anxiety. If this was going to happen at all, I wanted to be royally, robustly, fucked.
Number two was an ex porn-movie star, and although he was personable enough, I felt everything was an act. I don't want an act: this has to be real. Real lust! Real emotion!
Day three produced the goods. A very personable young man of about thirty, about my height with curly brown hair. He wore his trousers tight, giving me an insight into the goods and a tight T shirt.
